Nine Lives
by RainyDayReading
Summary: This is their ninth rebirth, and their last chance. Or, Voldemort wins a war and the four greatest wizards and witches in history must set things right.


**Nine Lives**

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 _A/N: Prompts will be included at the bottom, so as not to spoil anything. I hope you enjoy :)_

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"Miss? Excuse me? You have to pay for that coffee, you know."

Helga's eyes snapped open and she jolted upright.

Light flooded her vision and she grimaced, shielding her eyes. Why was it so bright?

When her vision focused, she found herself staring up at a woman who wore an expression of immense irritation. Her hair- which was bright pink, Helga realized with a shock- was pinned up in a messy knot, and her white shirt and skirt were stained with what looked to be spilled tea.

Helga just watched her for a moment, utterly and completely confused. Who was this woman?

Upon glancing around her, she found herself nestled in the corner of a room, perched in a chair and facing a small, round table. Scattered around her were more tables- mostly empty, except for one couple sitting at the far end of the room- and on the far side of the room was a long wooden countertop.

"I said you have to pay for that coffee," the woman repeated expectantly.

Helga looked back up at her, still dazed. "Pardon?"

The pink-haired woman let out a frustrated huff. "Do you have a hearing issue or something? _You have to pay for the coffee you bought."_

Helga's frown deepened. It was only then she noticed the paper cup filled with steaming liquid sitting on the table in front of her.

Some instinct made her reach into the pocket of the stiff denim skirt she wore and close her fingers around the single object inside- a large golden coin.

As Helga presented it to the woman, something tingled in the back of her brain, an inkling of something familiar.

Then a name popped into her head.

 _Galleon_ , she remembered. The coin was called a Galleon.

The pink-haired woman, however, stared down at Helga's outstretched palm, brown eyes narrowing.

"What, exactly," the woman seethed, "is _that?"_

"A Galleon?" Helga replied helpfully, but it came out as more of a question than a proper response.

The woman leaned closer to her. "Look," she practically growled, "I don't want any trouble, okay? I have to make a certain amount of money each month and pay He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or else he'll kill me- and all of my siblings, too. So just give me some goddamn _real_ money!"

 _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

That triggered another thing in Helga's hazy memories, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly where she had heard the phrase before.

"Excuse me," a sudden voice spoke up from behind the pink-haired girl.

Both Helga and Pink Hair looked up to see another woman standing before them. She looked so familiar to Helga that it was almost painful- with her olive skin, almond-shaped eyes, and waves of dark hair framing her heart-shaped face, Helga could have sworn that she knew this woman from somewhere.

"What is it?" Pink Hair snapped impatiently.

The woman reached into the back pocket of her dark jeans and pulled out a stack of green bills.

"Here," the woman said, presenting the wad to Pink Hair. "I'll pay for her coffee. Don't worry about it."

Pink Hair just stared at her for a moment before nodding once and plucking the money from her palm. Without another word, she stalked away, weaving through the tables and crossing to the counter on the other side of the room.

"Thank you," Helga blurted to the woman.

The woman smiled weakly before pulling out the chair across the table and sitting herself down in it. She leaned forward slightly, and, almost unconsciously, Helga copied her movements.

"I know you from somewhere," the dark-haired woman said in a low voice, toying absently with the sleeve of her dark sweater. "What is your name?"

"Helga Hufflepuff," Helga responded immediately. Out of all the words floating around in her foggy brain, her own name was one of the only things that was actually clear to her.

"Helga Hufflepuff," the woman murmured to herself. Her brow creased, and she glanced back over at Helga. "I'm Rowena Ravenclaw."

 _Rowena_.

And then something clicked in Helga's memory, her hazel eyes widening. Apparently Rowena had made the connection as well, for she swallowed hard, her mouth dropping open slightly.

"Helga," Rowena breathed, sounding hesitant.

"Rowena," Helga beamed back.

And then both women reached across the table, embracing each other tightly. Everything suddenly made sense; Helga's muddled thoughts rearranged themselves into comprehensible memories, and she had never been more thrilled to see her best friend.

Rowena pulled away from the hug, gaze growing serious once more. "We need to find Godric and Salazar. If we're here, then they have to be here, too."

"Where even _is_ here?" Helga wondered aloud. "I mean, last time we ended up in France, didn't we?"

"I think we're in Muggle Britain," Rowena replied, chewing on her lower lip, "judging by the clothing and speech pattern of the people here. I also believe we are in a cafe of sorts."

"And what _year_ is it?" Helga asked. "Hopefully not too far ahead from the last time we were reborn?"

"I don't think so," Rowena answered grimly. "You heard what that Muggle woman said. Lord Voldemort is still in power, which means that all of Europe is practically in a dark age."

"I wonder how many Muggles he's killed since our last life," Helga whispered, fear squeezing her heart. "After all, when we were in France, we learned that he was going after Muggles since all the wizards and witches that dared oppose him were dead."

Rowena stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the wooden floorboards as she did so. "This is our last chance," she said softly. "Our last chance to fix things. To beat Voldemort once and for all, and to let the world return to the peaceful place it is supposed to be."

Frowning, Helga glanced down at the inside of her left wrist- a motion that actually felt more like a habit, due to the amount of times she had checked the tattoo in her past lives.

Sure enough, there was only one dark line etched into her fair skin.

 _Look at that_ , Helga thought sadly. _Just look at how the once-mighty have fallen._

The first time she had been reborn, there had been nine marks. And each time they died, a mark disappeared. It hadn't been hard to put two and two together to realize that when their last mark faded, they would die- permanently.

So Rowena was right- it _was_ their last chance.

Helga thought back to their very first life after death, when she, Rowena, Godric, and Salazar had all materialized in a booth in the cozy place known as the Three Broomsticks. It had been so disorienting; after all, they were the founders of Hogwarts, blasted into a future where Harry Potter had lost a war to Lord Voldemort.

Trying to get their bearings in the future had been the hardest part.

Or so Helga thought.

Then, when Rowena realized that they needed to end Voldemort's reign, everything got much, _much_ more difficult.

"Helga," Rowena said, snapping Helga out of her thoughts. "Come on. We must go."

Helga nodded once, fingers twitching nervously. She wished with all her heart that she still had her wand with her, but she had lost it sometime in between her third and fourth rebirth.

Helga followed Rowena out of the small coffee shop, stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk. The sharp breeze rustled her short hair, and Helga shivered, tugging her peach sweater closer around her body.

For a moment, she and Rowena just stood there, side-by-side, taking in the damage Voldemort had already done to the Muggle world.

The streets were empty; not a single person walked by, and it was eerily silent, save for the howling of the wind. The gray roads were silhouetted against the gray sky, making everything all the more foreboding.

"Look," Rowena breathed, tilting her head back and staring at the churning gray clouds overhead.

Helga followed her gaze, gasping softly when she spotted the shadowy figures drifting through the air.

Dementors.

Voldemort's hold on the Muggle world had already strengthened; in their last life, Muggles were only just finding out about the idea of magic even existing. Now, though… it was obvious that Voldemort didn't care about keeping magic a secret. He wanted everybody to know exactly how much power he had over them- and exactly what he would do to them if he were to be disobeyed.

Audibly gulping, Helga forced herself to look away from the Dementors circling overhead. She allowed her eyes to fall shut, and she could tell by the sound of Rowena's slowed breathing by her side that the other woman was doing the same.

For a long, long breath, they just stood there, soaking up the silence.

Helga's eyes opened first.

"I know where they are," she announced.

Rowena opened her eyes as well, turning to her. "Lead the way."

As Helga began to quickly make her way down the sidewalk, head bent towards the ground, she mentally congratulated herself on perfecting her locating skills. Ever since her first rebirth, she, Rowena, Godric, and Salazar had developed the strange ability to locate each other just by focusing hard enough. Not only that, but their skills in wandless magic had been steadily improving.

"This way," Helga murmured, turning a sharp corner. Her heart was beating erratically, and she could feel terror bubbling up in her stomach- fear of potentially being caught by patrolling Death Eaters, Dementors, or maybe even worse- but she forced herself to concentrate. To keep on sensing the location of her two lost friends.

They entered a dark, narrow alleyway nestled between two tall, crumbling brick buildings. The entire place reeked of soured milk and rotting flesh, and Helga couldn't stop herself from retching.

"They're somewhere in here?" Rowena asked in a pained voice, glancing around the heaps and heaps of overflowing garbage bags piled in every corner of the alley.

Suddenly, a clanging sound echoed around them and Helga jumped, instinctively inching closer to Rowena as they stood back-to-back in a defensive position.

"Over there," Rowena hissed, gesturing to a large green dumpster on the far side of the alley.

The clanging echoed once more and Helga clenched her fists.

And then a head popped out of the dumpster.

Helga's face broke out into a relieved smile; she would recognize that platinum hair anywhere, even if it was currently covered in brownish slime.

Salazar squinted through the sludge that was running down his forehead.

"Helga? Rowena?" he called hesitantly.

Rowena let out a short huff of laughter. "Wonderful to see you again, Sal."

Even though her tone was calm, Helga knew she was ecstatic to see him again. She, on the other hand, didn't bother to conceal her elation, and her grin widened as Salazar clambered awkwardly out of the dumpster, obviously beyond embarrassed at being caught smothered in garbage. Not that any of them cared- it was wartime, after all, and they had bigger things to worry about than appearances- but Salazar had always been the kind of person to care about what he looked like.

The moment he stumbled into the cobblestones of the alleyway, another face emerged from the grimy depths of the trash. This time, it was Godric; his messy dark hair was littered with scraps of filth, but his eyes were bright and alert.

"Helga! Rowena!" he cried out, leaping from the can.

The four of them hurried to the center of the alleyway, where embraces were exchanged and words were said about the putrid smell of Godric and Salazar's clothes.

Their happiness faded quickly, however, when Salazar's silver eyes grew somber once more.

"It's good fortune that Godric and I landed here," he said quietly. "We found something."

Rowena frowned. "What is it?"

Godric uncurled his left fist and held out a small, glimmering object. With its transparent, pale gray exterior, it looked like a rough-hewn crystal. And there was a sort of aura emanating off of it, something evil and cold that seemed to seep into Helga's chest, reaching for her heart with dark, oozing tendrils.

"Was is it?" Rowena breathed.

"A Dementor tear," Godric replied quietly. "And watch this."

He once again closed his fist around the crystalized tear, and Salazar placed his hand on top of Godric's. Then, both men looked at Helga and Rowena expectantly.

Doubtfully, Helga placed her hand on top of the pile, and Rowena went next, her slim fingers curling around Helga's wrist.

There was a moment of deafening silence.

And then Helga felt a power roar through her blood, something ancient and frozen and oh-so powerful. She inhaled sharply, yanking her hand away. Rowena seemed to have a similar reaction, too, as she stumbled back, and Godric and Salazar both launched themselves away from each other.

Helga cradled her throbbing palm close to her chest. Then she frowned, pulling her hand up to her face for closer inspection.

Faint blue lines were traced deep into her skin, weaving across her bones and disappearing beneath the sleeve of her sweater. She turned her fingers over in awe, watching the icy markings beneath ripple in the light.

"Now look," Godric said through clenched teeth, trying to shake off the pain in his hand. He closed his eyes and held out his palm.

Before Helga knew what was happening, words were tumbling from Godric's mouth faster than she could understand; yet, somehow, the magic in her veins seemed to respond to the spell Godric was chanting, though it was a spell she had never heard before.

Without realizing she was doing it, Helga was mouthing the words to the strange spell along with Godric, whispering in a foreign language that did not exist.

And then there was a flash of blue light so bright that Helga thought her eyeballs had been seared out of her skull.

She crumpled to her knees, all thoughts of the spell forgotten, as she tried to shield her face from the light that had invaded every crevice in her mind.

Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the light faded away.

Hesitantly, Helga opened her eyes. She was kneeling in a pile of ashes, drifting silently in the breeze like heaps of black snow. Standing around her were Rowena, Salazar, and Godric, their faces smudged with the dark ashes.

They had burned the alleyway, and the surrounding buildings, to smithereens.

Without even looking up, Helga knew that the Dementors were closing in on them. And she had no doubt that a whole armada of Death Eaters would be quick to follow.

But as she pulled herself to her feet and nodded once to the three people in front of her, she knew that this was it- this was the final time they would face the Dark Lord.

And this time, they would win.

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 _HPFC_

 _Ultimate Writer Challenge - "Write an AU of your choice." - 2/3 complete_

 _Ultimate AU Prompathon Challenge - Common Trope/Themed AUs - "reincarnation!AU."_

 _Shay's Epic Board Game Challenge - Elixir - "Write about making a new spell."_

 _Hogwarts_

 _Assignment #10 - Women's History #4 - "Write a reincarnation!AU."_

 _Writing Club - Ami and Lo's Character Appreciation (Victoire) - "7. (word) last."_

 _Writing Club - Bex's Disney Challenge - "Songs ; Can You Feel the Love Tonight ; Write about a moment where things change forever."_

 _Writing Club - Lizzy's Showtime - "2. The Bishop - (color) silver."_

 _Writing Club - Lizzy's Lyric Alley - "13. And the only solution was to stand and fight."_

 _Writing Club - Ami's Audio Admirations - "14. Hummingbird - (phrase) life after death."_

 _Writing Club - Emy's Emporium - "The Empire ; Write about a powerful man/woman or organisation."_

 _Gotta Catch 'Em All - Title: "Nine Lives" - Bulbasaur: "(word) fortune ; (emotion) embarrassed ; (word) fallen."_

 _Chocolate Frog Cards Club - (Gold) Rowena Ravenclaw - "Write about Rowena Ravenclaw."_

 _QLFC Season 6_

 _Seeker: Appleby Arrows - Round 2 (Jurassic Fever) - "Write about the invention of a magical object, potion, or other creation."_

 _The Golden Snitch_

 _Centaurus, Aurora - Through the Universe Challenge - "180. Supergiant - (setting) Muggle Britain."_

 _Room of Requirement_

 _Wand Wood Category Challenge - Blackthorn - "Write about a character facing a trial, danger, or hardship."_

 _The Ultimate Hogwarts House Competition - Ravenclaw - "10. (era) Founders Era."_


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